When Stars Fall
by IcyChicle
Summary: England is shocked when the night before his mathematics A-Level, a man falls from a thunderstorm. He takes him in, barely thinking of the repercussions it might have on his life, or of those around him. Mainly USUK.
1. The Good Samaritan

Oh, yes, I have gone and done exactly what I said I wouldn't. I have started _another _fanfic. As my main one really doesn't need working on *rolls eyes*. Yes, btw, I am working on it right now. I just had this idea and had to get it out. Don't kill me. Anyway, er...that's it. And yay for constant EnglandxAmerica fics from me XD. And more yay for chichéd title!

Enjoy!

**Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

Rated T for occasional bad language.

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><p>Arthur Kirkland had never liked thunderstorms. Even less now that it was almost half-eleven at night and his parents were away on holiday together and not there to comfort him like they normally would, but in a way, that was all right; it gave him a sense of independence. He liked his independence.<p>

He glanced away from the news to the clock on the wall. It was 11:28. He had never realised how late it was, never stayed up this late watching television, except on new-year's eve, but that was something different.

Rubbing his eyes, he heaved his body up from the couch and straightened out the depression he had made in the leather by sitting there for so long and grimacing. He had a nasty habit of procrastinating until times like this; his A-levels were coming up tomorrow, and revising was really a priority for him…he just got distracted easily.

Stretching, he threw the cushions back down and made his way to the door, turning the lights off and heading upstairs, dragging his hands along the rough wallpaper.

In some ways, he enjoyed the freedom that the lack of parents gave him. He was allowed to choose his bedtime, how long he spent doing whatever he liked, and eating his favourite foods, but in other ways, he missed them.

He stumbled into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush, smearing it with toothpaste and scrubbing out his mouth noncommittally, throwing it back when he was finished and picking up a flannel. The storm wasn't improving; on the contrary, it was getting worse and worse: winds whipping the house like a horse and rain beating it down in attempts to reach the inhabitant.

After the dreary chores had been completed, he fell into the soft warmth of his bed, savouring every last detail. He listened to the raging tempest outside and the lashing rain against the glass behind closed curtains and felt safe, even though it did scare him a bit.

He was just drifting off when a blinding light filtered through the curtains and a deafening blast physically rocked the house, the computer shaking where it stood and several books tumbling onto the carpet and laying, pages splayed awkwardly. The blast shook the trembling young man awake, setting off an instinctive reaction; to jump out of bed.

He released a few of his choicest swear words and slammed a foot onto the ground childishly releasing a fit of rage. Deciding it would be best, he donned his dressing gown over his pyjamas and made his way downstairs to inspect any damage that might have occurred cautiously. The storm still swirled outside, but less violently, as if it had spent much of it's energy.

Grabbing the keys, he unlocked the door, glancing at the clock. It was precisely twelve. The ground outside was hideously wet, sucking weakly at his feet and trees reached across the sky over his head, the liquid reflecting perfectly the chink of moon that shone through the clouds that tensed and relaxed as if it was breathing. Like a living being.

He trotted out to the drive, unwilling to stay outside for long, and turned to look at the house. Finding in surprise that it was untouched, he walked away to his home again, but another flash illuminated a figure behind him. He swivelled on the spot, and gasped.

There was a crumpled person on the ground, shivering and heaving for breath, hair and clothes plastered to his body like a second skin.

He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, both singed toward the bottom, glasses almost falling off the nose that dripped rain and blood, looking grotesquely broken in a way. His shoes were dangling precariously off his feet; split and bubbling from heat all the way down to the toes and the laces were frayed at the ends.

"Bloody hell…" Nothing could have prepared Arthur for this. He had gone outside expecting to maybe deal with discovering that there was no power for a week, but _this?_

Feeling he had no choice, he hoisted the man around his shoulders and struggled slowly to the door.

"Mate, you'd better not be drunk…"

"I'm not." The chapped lips gasped, surprising Arthur, "And…thank you…so much…" he went completely limp.

Speeding up, the boy dragged the mysterious man inside and up the stairs, not caring that the carpet and floors were becoming sodden by blood and rainwater and into his parents' bed, yanking off what little parts of shoes he had left. The figure sprawled ungainly over the bed, soaking it and making it sag. Arthur cringed at the mess made briefly, before heading to get a wet cloth and towel from the bathroom. Returning, he sat down and began to dab at the blood on his face and the general…wetness of the man.

"Oh, sod it." This was awkward. Why had he taken this guy in again? Even though it had been a decision of his, less than fifteen minutes ago, he still sometimes questioned why he often reacted so brashly. And he couldn't exactly send him off now; he was taking care of a stranger that was probably barely alive.

He sighed, sagged, and went to get a spare pyjama top, jamming it onto the sleeping man and admired his handiwork. No, that was perverted. He blushed and turned away, closing the door on his way out and turning the light off. When he got into his own bed, it was just after 2:00am and he fell asleep almost instantly, barely registering the mess that he so abhorred scattered across his bedroom. He could clean that up later.

-o-

When he woke up, the first thing that Arthur noticed was that it was nine o' clock.

"Holy crap..." he was horribly late for school. And he really couldn't afford to miss his maths exam. He threw himself off the bed and grabbed any clothes that his hands could find and yanked them on clumsily, pushing a piece of bread into the toaster. No. He really couldn't wait for that. He turned it off and crammed the slightly crispy bread into his mouth, running upstairs...and remembered the man in his parent's bedroom.

"Oh, bollocks."

He _couldn't _miss this exam, but it wasn't wise to leave this stranger at home, either. Deciding on the A-level, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the table and scribbled a note with handwriting, as Roderich would say, Franz Josef would have been appalled at. But then, Roderich _was _a neat-freak.

_Hi. Food in fridge. Water in tap. Be back at three. Don't make a mess. Thx. -Arthur_

Yes. How rude. But how very efficient.

He smiled and put the note on he bedside table, dashing out the door, arriving at school _just _as the bell went. School pervert Francis waited at the gates.

"Ah, mon ami, you are late, non?"

"Not yet." he ran past the chuckling Frenchman and to the line for the exam, dropping his bag off in form. Feliciano Vargas, the little Italian that sat next to him in English turned around. "It's so exciting! It's all quiet!"

The tall blond in front of Feliciano turned around and scolded him. "No, it's not exciting. It's an exam. Now concentrate, or you won't get your predicted level."

"Aww...why so serious, Luddy?" The Italian turned round and clasped him around the waist, "I had pasta for breakfast, and if I can for the rest of my life and be with you, then it doesn't matter to me" he watched the German go an impressive shade of crimson.

"R-right...ja...look. We're going in now. Do your best, Feli. I'll see you later." he abruptly turned away, the colour reaching down his neck and coating his ears.

"He's always like that."

"Nein. I am not!"

"Whatever!"

Feliciano shot a grin at Arthur. They started walking to the hall where they would take their first mathematics exam since GCSE. Butterflies raged in his stomach, making him feel sick and turn white. Several others had too. The silence penetrated his very bones as he walked in line and sat down at the desk with the paper on it. Minutes passed. He saw Yao scribbling down answers, but he felt like he had hit a blank wall. Then he looked carefully at the questions, and a lightbulb switched on in his head.

-o-

"Good Lord, that was hard." Tino said over his sandwich at lunch. Everyone nodded in agreement, Berwald shifting closer to him. The exam had lasted three hours and they were all exhausted, but they still had to stay in school for the afternoon. But he was right. The exam had been hard, and none of them were totally expecting to have passed with a C. That is, except Kiku and Yao. They had had no difficulty whatsoever. But then again, that was their areas of speciality. Arthur knew that he would do very well in English, while Francis would do well in French. Similar for Roderich and music, Ludwig and German, Feliciano and art.

Arthur hadn't really spoken as much as e normally would have, and Feliciano noticed this.

"Hey, amico, what's up?"

"Oh...er nothing...well-" he paused, noticing that everyone was listening, "Well...last night. Do you all remember the thunderstorm?"

Elizaveta nodded, "The worst I can remember."

"Yeah, well, some random guy turned up on my driveway just as that huge thunderbolt struck. He's in my house right now, probably still asleep."

They all looked at him and said together, "He fell out of the sky?"

"Yes. I think so."

Gilbert, Ludwig's generally obnoxious brother, laughed and fell onto Arthur's shoulder. "Man, what have you been smoking?"

"I wasn't high, you idiot. He's real and he's still in my house. I'll show you."

"Right." Gilbert chuckled, "After school, we all go round to yours and prove that he's not real, 'kay?"

"Hmmm." Arthur looked down.

Francis sauntered up to him, "I believe you, ami."

"Really?"

"No!" he ran off cackling and without any clothes. Wait, he had been naked? Eww...

"How disgusting."

The bell rang for lessons and the group trudged off through the midgets from the younger years to history.

-o-

"S'." Berwald looked at Arthur, "Yer dr'gged 's out h're fer wh't?"

"To prove that this man is real."

They rounded the corner to face Arthur's house, and were greeted by smashed windows, the door battered and hanging off the frame and the garden wrecked. Arthur, Roderich and Ludwig screamed.

"It's a mess!"

"Good grief..."

"Get it tidied!"

"My parents are due home next week!" Arthur yelled. "Strange person, get out here right now!"

The man crept out. He had replaced his clothes with Arthur's, making a complete mess and his nose still looked a little bit broken. Arthur rushed up to him. "What the bloody hell have you been doing?"

He got a pause from the other, before; "Hello. I'm called Alfred."

"What have you done?"

"I took your advice. Only, what's a tap. And what's a fridge? And who is Arthur? And why do you cover holes in you wall with glass? It's a bit flimsy."

Arthur threw his face into his palms. Looking hopefully at his friends, he smiled uneasily. "Anyone up to helping me tidy up?"

Roderich and Ludwig were into the house in a shot. Some were reluctant, but still helped. Some just walked away.

"Thank you so much." he turned to 'Alfred'. "We need to talk. But first, you're helping me tidy up."

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><p>There you are! Terrible writing; I was tired ^_^. And I have chronic writer's block.<p>

My other fic has priority over this, so expect that to be updated before this. And I'm too lazy to check this over at the moment, so any mistakes will hopefully be corrected soon.


	2. Evening at the beach

Note: Mathias is the equivalent of Denmark. Because _I bloody love that name._

_IGNORE THE CRAP TITLE. IGNORE.  
><em>

**Hetalia does not belong to me, da? It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, _da?_**

Potty-mouthed human personified nations (ohyes!)

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><p>"You've made a complete mess!" Arthur scolded the nervously grinning man angrily, "I <em>did <em>say that you weren't to cause confusion!" he separated each word more and more, raising his voice in annoyance.

"Oh, what? When?" Now Arthur heard the man speak, he noticed that he had an American accent. "I never heard anything about a mess" he looked down, hiding a cheeky smirk. The audacity of it! And even after Arthur had taken him in out of the kindness of his heart…

Just barely keeping himself from screaming at the man, Arthur started through gritted teeth "That's because you were lolling about, asleep on my parent's bed. I left a damn note." He stopped, allowing an uncomfortable silence while Alfred continued to try to hide a grin. At least he was _trying_ to conceal it. It would have been beyond rude to laugh in his face. So Arthur continued: "And you'd better help with the tidying, seeing as you were the one who caused it." That wiped the leer off his face. Arthur threw a bin-bag at the now scowling blond with that _blasted _curl and simpering eyes

"Fine." He allowed an absurd mix of amusement, annoyance and surprise to invade his features, "Okay." He kneeled down and started to pick up the glass on the floor with his bare hands.

"NO!" Eyebrows rushed over to him and yanked him upwards, "You can't pick that up with your hands, you need a dustpan and brush! Imbecile, do you _want _to bleed to death?"

"Hm?" He watched Arthur move to the cupboard to retrieve a dustpan, disturbing the immaculately placed art supplies and cleaning equipment and making a satisfied grunt when he pulled out the two pieces of shaped plastic. Returning the moved objects with love, he handed it to the tall man, smiling smugly.

"Here you are. I assume you know how to use it?"

"Yeah." He bent down again and swept the mess into it, tipping it into the bag and muttering odd curses. He had an idea. He hated tidying up. So he stopped, acted coughing very badly and said "Oh, no. I'm still ill. You have to let me go to bed."

"No, twat. How stupid do you think I am? Get down and sweep up that shit. Keep doing that if you find any more _broken _windows." He pronounced the 'broken' very clearly, "I'm going to see how the others are doing." He began to walk off before stopping suddenly and turning around. "Oh, my. How rude. My name's Arthur Kirkland, by the way." He gave a brief smile.

"Oh, so _you're _Arthur."

"Yep. Don't forget it or I shall have to kill you." He swept out of the door quickly.

"Good luck with that." Alfred whispered under his breath. Nobody had killed him yet, why was this little man with the funny voice any different?

-o-

When Arthur got upstairs, he found that Roderich and Ludwig had tidied about thirty percent of the mess of various clothes; cereal that had somehow gotten up here from the box; toilet roll; water (where from, they tried not to think); the remains of _The Sunday Times _Arthur bought every Sunday, and chairs. Francis had been hanging about trying to molest anyone who turned their back to him. For this reason, he was currently stuck to the wall with copious amounts of duct tape covering his mouth as well as holding him stationary. Arthur gave one look and decided that he probably wasn't going to be released for a _long _time. Moving on, Elizaveta was trying to somehow get inappropriate shots of Tino and Berwald together, even though they were just steadily working at the small mountain of CDs of Arthur's favourite bands: ACDC, Pink Floyd, Deep Purple, The Beatles and Black Sabbath, piled up on the floor in a pyramid. He grimaced at how poorly his possessions had been treated and hoped that none of them were broken.

Gilbert was lying on Arthur's bed with a plastic crown perched on his head, being no help whatsoever. Arthur could have sworn that the albino carried the damned thing around with him, along with the bird the teachers always told him off for bringing to school. Walking up behind him (the bed faced away from the door), Arthur delivered a quick tap to Gilbert's head and a yell to the ear. Jumping and cursing, he heaved himself up and trailed off to do some work along with the others.

"Lazy bugger." Arthur shouted before marching off to help Roderich and Ludwig with turning his parent's bed back to its correct side. Heaving, they pushed it around and it landed on its base, like a bed should be. They patted each other on the back and started on the dresser that had been knocked clean across the room. How strong _was _this guy? It was almost inhuman!

The dresser was at about 40 degrees of elevation when they all heard a sickening scream bolt up the stairs and assault their eardrums. Arthur and Ludwid dropped the dresser immediately onto Roderich's foot, who howled in pain and curled up on the floor, tears of pain pricking his eyes.

"Ow!" he yelled, trying to attract the attention of anyone. It fell on deaf ears, apart from a certain Prussian telling to shut up. Roderich sighed. "That's the damper out for a few weeks then." He murmured into his chest before trying to stand up, pain shooting up his leg. When he finally looked around however, he found that everyone had run downstairs.

"Now, that's just mean." He said to himself, following them, hobbling down the carpeted stairs, trying his utmost not to fall down them.

When he caught up with them, he found Alfred sprawled on the floor, rolling around and gripping his left hand with his right. Arthur was shouting and all the others were doubled up, clutching their sides from the laughter ripping from their throats.

"Idiot! You tried to pick it up without the dustpan, didn't you?"

Alfred nodded with panic-stricken eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Everyone laughed harder.

"Urgh, come here." He grabbed Alfred by the arm and dragged him to the sink. Honestly, it was only a scratch, he didn't see what was so upsetting about it. And it wasn't really that funny, either. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Some of them rarely laughed. For example, why the hell was _Berwald _finding it amusing? He only ever grunted and scowled and sometimes smiled at Tino.

Alfred's breath suddenly became laborious and heavy when Arthur turned on the tap to wash away the blood, "Wha-what's tha-ARGH!" he screeched, "It's cold!"

"No shit, Sherlock." Gilbert sniggered from the corner, sidling up to watch what little action was taking place, "Wait…lemme think…it says 'cold' on the tap. Of _course _it's gonna be warm, what a surprise-"

Gilbert's sarcastic ramblings were cut off shortly with a loud clanging of metal against skull. There was a soft _whumph _of the albino hitting the ground and a considerable amount of the noise was silenced. Arthur continued to wash Alfred's hands.

"Good grief, man. How deep did you cut yourself? It just keeps coming…"

"I don't know, but it hurt."

Arthur yanked the hand out of the stream from the tap and told Tino to go and grab a bandage. The order was obeyed immediately and the little blue-clad blond hurried out of the room. The rest of Arthur's friends just stood around awkwardly, Elizaveta occasionally kicking at the body at her feet if it moved.

"…so how-"

_Rrrrriiippp…_

"Shit." Roderich lowered his voice, "I think Francis has freed himself."

This was confirmed by a distant "Onhonhon-" and a yell from Tino. Berwald jumped up, and with a roar of,

"D'n't you d're t'ch m'wife!" he was out of the room. There was silence, save the sound of the huge Swede bounding up the stairs.

"…Did he just call Tino his wife?"

"Apparently." Gilbert just managed before being kicked again.

"Shut it, slug."

"Don't…You'll hurt Gilbird…" he produced a chick that peeped softly.

Elizaveta's eyes widened, "Oh, how cute! Something that sweet can't belong to someone as crass as you!" she swept the little fluffy, yellow bird in her arms and cradled it.

"Thank you for the compliment, and yes, it does."

"Shut up!" he was kicked into silence again.

There were distant shouts from upstairs, and by the sound of it, Berwald was beating Francis to a pulp, Tino yelling that that was enough and he didn't want to be connected in any way to a man's death. Francis couldn't be heard.

"He didn't stand a chance."

"Tino! I need those bandages as soon as possible!" Alfred was beginning to bleed all over his parents' settee.

"Alright, coming!" Tino was obviously out of danger and was dashing down the stairs, accompanied by the heavy footfalls of his Swedish best friend and warnings of,

"D'n't f'll d'wn."

The warning went unheeded and the small Finn gambolled into the room, handing the bandages to Arthur. Beginning to wrap them around the wound, Arthur decided that he could likely take care of the rest of the house by himself.

"Thank you all so much for helping, but I think I'll be able to finish it now." He stood up, "You should all go home and relax now, you've been a great help."

"Ah, thank you." Ludwig said, grabbing the unconscious albino and swinging him onto his shoulders, "Are you sure you can take care of it?"

"I'll be fine, thank you, Ludwig. You've been very helpful, I should repay you…would you like some scones?"

"Er…er…no thanks." Ludwig quickly refused. Arthur's cooking was rumoured to have once put a man in hospital. Granted, it was Francis, who was incredibly finicky about his food, but still…

"We'd better be off, then." Everyone traipsed slowly from the house to leave a quiet space. A certain French groan drifted downstairs.

Marching smartly towards the bathroom where the blond lay, Arthur grabbed him by the legs and dragged him downstairs, making sure that his head bumped nastily on every step.

"Ah…ah…ah…Francis abuse! Francis abuse!"

"I don't bloody care." Reaching the front door, he threw the Frenchman out onto the street, ignoring the large, painful-looking bump forming steadily and the black eye, stretching across pale skin. Berwald must have attacked him quite ferociously.

"And don't come back." He slammed the door, ignoring cries of,

"Mon ami, you're beautiful when you're angry."

He turned his attention back to Alfred, who was still sat down on the sofa trying to wrap the bandages round his arm and sat down beside him, muttering about how he shouldn't have taken the damn man in in the first instance.

"Ah…I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you…" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "And did I ever say thank you?"

"No."

"Well, thank you." He waited for a negative response, maybe a clip around the ear again, but he got no such thing. On the contrary, Arthur was smiling warmly.

"Heh, it's okay. I guess it's what anyone else would've done." He paused for a moment before, "I was getting lonely anyway." There was an awkward silence before he spoke again, pulling the bandage tighter and fastening it: "By the way, you never told me your full name."

"I didn't? In your world, It would be 'F Jones'. Alfred F Jones. Pleased to meet ya!" he held out his unhurt hand. It was taken, and they shook hands.

"So." Arthur stood up, "I'd better show you to your room, then?"

"But, what about where I slept last night?"

"That was my parent's bed, and you made a mess of it. I should have taken you to the spare room, but I wasn't thinking properly." He yanked Alfred up with the hand already gripped in his, "But that's fine." He led the man to the doorway, "The room's in the attic. Oh! We have to make up a story for my parents. They'll think I'm completely insane if I said you just dropped out of the sky. Listen, you're a friend who was kicked out of his parent's house, okay?"

"But, we shouldn't lie…"

"Just, stick with it. Okay?" they began to climb until they reached the second floor. Alfred counted thirty-two steps. He wasn't usually this observant. Arthur opened a door, painted a glossy white and revealed a room of heavy grey stone and beds of knotted wood, covered in deep scarlet sheets. There was a window on the east wall that overlooked the rippling sea, shining blue, surfers crashing over the waves.

"Dude, this is beautiful! Where are we?"

"Cornwall." Replied Arthur, "Gorgeous place. Look! Gilbert's made a recovery." Sure enough, the albino was skimming along the tide, giving Ludwig (who was laid on the sand) the finger. Ludwig jumped up and tackled the teenager into the waves.

There was a ringing sound, and Alfred looked down at the phone in Arthur's hand, now being raised to his ear. Arthur mimed and 'excuse me' for a moment, before leaving the room and beginning to talk. Alfred just watched the scene; Arthur's friends now all spilling out onto the beach to mingle with the holidaymakers. Feliciano stood out, a canary yellow ring around his waist, laughing wildly and falling off the pier when his brother pushed him from behind.

A voice floated through the door the greet Alfred, and he listened, knowing that it wasn't polite to listen in, but still hearing:

_"What? You're coming home tomorrow? …Yes…Of course you can, it's just a bit of a sho-" _silence for a while, before: _"I just wasn't expecting you. Of course I'd like you home. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."_

The phone snapped shut and Arthur walked in again, face ashen.

"They're coming back tomorrow." He sat down on the bed, "What're we going to do about the windows? What'll we say?" he began to wring his hands. Alfred sat down beside him and began to comfort him, even though he had no experience of this before.

"It'll be okay. We'll get some glass."

"How?"

"I'm not sure." He stood up again and strode to the window. "Didn't you say you had important tests on at the minute?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Then why are your friends all surfing and on the beach? Wouldn't they be revising?" he looked at the green-eyed man curled over on the bed.

"Ah, it's their way of relaxing."

"Can we go?"

"Hm? Oh, I don't see why not. I mean, there's not really much of a chance that we'll get the windows fixed anytime soon. I'll say that some yobs came and smashed them in." he stopped, before continuing, "A bit lazy and untruthful of me, but I can't see anything else to say." He stood up and headed for the door, "First, we need to get you some clothes and hygiene…stuff, have dinner, and then we'll go out. They'll still be there." He motioned for Alfred to follow him.

* * *

><p>"No, Alfred. I'm sorry, but you can't wear a dress." He gaped in horror at Alfred, twisting his hips around and making the pink and flowery material billow, "It's not really…well, it's frowned upon. People will think you're weird."<p>

"I don't care what people think of me."

"Well, you'll be hanging around me. And that means they'll think I'm weird as well."

"Man, your world is wrong. Why can't people wear what they want?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just…that's a good point. But, I think this looks better on you. And it'll be more practical." He shoved a pair of canvas shorts and a t-shirt at him. It earned a great grin, and the blond dashed into the changing room to try them on. He emerged looking much better; showing well built and toned muscles. Arthur choked.

"Is it okay?" Alfred questioned, cocking his head expectantly.

"Fine. Great." Arthur thumped himself on the chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, thank you." He said, recovering a little, "Go and take them off, get some more of them, and we'll go and get some stuff for dinner."

Alfred obeyed and returned, putting on his old clothes. The clothes that had previously been Arthur's.

"You may as well keep the ones you're wearing now." They went to the checkout, paid and left, heading for the supermarket.

"How does Toad in the hole sound?"

"It sounds…toady. What is it?"

"It's sausages in Yorkshire pudding. I may as well make mashed potato and gravy as well." He headed around, picking up a pack of sausages, some milk, flour, potatoes and a few oxo cubes.

"You'll have to make do with instant gravy, I'm afraid. I really can't be arsed making it from scratch."

"That's fine."

"Great. Let's go."

-o-

Two hours later, the food was cooked.

"You like it?" Arthur mumbled through mouthfuls.

"It's…nice…" Was the choked response. "I'm not used to eating much, really."

"Hm?" Arthur finished and pushed his dish away, "Not hungry?"

"Oh, er, I'm fine, thank you." Truth be told, it was burnt. "I'm anxious to go to the beach."

"Oh! Good point. My friends will still be there, if they haven't already drowned. 'specially Gil." He stood up, "He's stupid enough in general. Cracking at German, though." He grabbed his surfboard. "Do you want to surf too?"

"I've never tried, to be honest."

"I'll show you." He passed the blond his father's board, "It's a bit cold at first, but you'll get used to it. Ready?"

Alfred pulled on his sandals and grinned, "More ready than you!"

Arthur shook his head in confusion and left the house, locking the door behind his new friend and setting off to the beach. The sun was setting, turning the sea a bright orange. The light reflected off the sand and illuminated his friends, now the only people left. They had obviously scared everyone else off.

"Hey! Arthur!" Mathias waved from the sea before being toppled by a gigantic wave. He emerged spluttering and coughing, but still managing to shout; "Brought your new boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, twat." Arthur spat back, joining Kiku, Yao and Roderich in a deckchair.

"We were beginning to wander where you were." Kiku said over the waves, "You never forfeit the sea unless you absolutely can't come."

"Ah, I had my friend to look after." He motioned to Alfred, standing awkwardly on the sand a few metres away, "He didn't have any clothes."

"Oh."

"Hey! Alfred! Come and say hi!" His command was obeyed. Alfred wandered over slowly and waved at Kiku and Yao. Gilbert sneaked up behind the tall blond, seemingly oblivious that Alfred was much taller than him, and attempted to throw him over his shoulder. It failed.

"What're you doing?"

"Er…" Gilbert faultered, sprawled ungainly across the sand, "Trying to flip you?"

"That was pathetic." Alfred said, picking up the albino and throwing him over his shoulder with so much force that a largish dent was made in the sand where Gilbert landed. "That's how you flip someone."

"I've been beaten up a little much today, don't you think?"

"No. Now show me how to surf."

"What? That's not my responsibility!"

"Aww, come on, Gil…" Alfred picked him up and smiled flashingly at him, "I'm sure I'll get the hang of it soon-" he was interrupted by a deafening yell from Elizaveta.

"Pier jumping contest!"

"Ha!" Gilbert scuttled off onto the pier, only to be thrown off by the Hungarian girl. "That's not fair!"

Feliciano had climbed onto the sand, having given up on the pier after having being pushed off five times by his brother, sopping wet, but grinning. "It's so fun!" he chirped at Kiku, "You should try it!"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself!" he flopped down beside them.

The six sat in silence, watching everyone else jumping off the huge stone wall out into the sea until Arthur broke the silence.

"Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened, exactly? Why did you fall from the sky? Where do you come from? Are you really not from this world?"

"Hm." He ruffled the Englishman's hair. Arthur shrunk away indignantly, "It's really difficult to explain."

"Well, we have all the time in the world now."

"No. I'm sorry…it's…kinda personal. I'll tell you later."

"Fine."

They all looked back out, just in time to see Ivan Braginsky, the Russian from the nearby high school, walk up to the group on the pier and pick them up like rag dolls, throwing them all way out towards the caves at the south end of the beach.

* * *

><p>Ah, yes. Happy times on the beach with Gilbo. And with Arthur's cooking, but whatever. Next chappie sees Arthur's parents and some of Alfred's past. Thank you very much if you reviewed, put the story on your watch or favourites, or read :D. It's great to get feedback.<p>

Yes, I have been to Cornwall. It is bloody beautiful. And toad in the hole is magnificent so don't bash it XD


	3. Voices in the night

HELLO! I'm not dead! Neither have I lost interest in Hetalia or the story :D. I just had incredible amounts of work to take on. I now also have a beta reader, PeaceGem4! Thankies you very muchly for checking the story over :D

Italics indicate flackback. ~_Wibble wobble wibble wobble_~ (scone if you get the reference, seriously XD) or speech by unknown characters. You will know in which way it is being used when it gets down to it ^_^.

**There is profuse colourful language in this chapter. Don't be offended D: *cowers***

**Hetalia does not belong to me, it belongs to Hidekaz Himuraya-aru.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Alfred-?"<em> The small voice teased it's way expertly through the night, into the head of the blond sleeping peacefully on the scarlet sheets.

"No." He whispered back, trying to wave it off, but knowing subconsciously that this would in no way help, "Go away."

_"Alfred-?"_

"No! Leave me alone!"

_"Alfred, it's your fault. You were the one. You killed them."_ It was right inside him now, reverberating nastily through his skull. Silence for a few seconds, before, "_You're no better than a serial killer_."

Alfred stopped responding, captivated negatively by the words. He could think of nothing to retort with, nothing to redeem himself. Now that he thought of it…that voice…he knew…he knew.

A figure began to form out of the swirling darkness, shedding lightening smoke, body slightly lopsided, short hair flapping limply by it's head.

It was small, smaller than him and very, very thin. As more details came into view, he saw that it's clothes were ragged and bloodstained, slashed as if by a sword, and scars were stretching mercilessly across the exposed skin. A walking horror film, almost.

It stepped slowly into the light and looked up, making direct eye contact with the unwilling man and opened it's mouth with a pained grimace.

"_I blame this unto thee_!" it screamed unexpectedly, making Alfred jump, tears springing quickly to his blue eyes, watching the thing collapse at his feet.

"_Aaaaahhhhh_-!"

"Alfred! What's wrong?" Arthur was by his bed, shaking him awake desperately, "Are you still hurt? Has Francis appeared? If he has, I swear…"

"No, I-it's not." He stuttered breathlessly through the night, Arthur quietened. "It's just…difficult to explain." Arthur's face was priceless, "Okay, sorry. That wasn't helpful." He took another deep breath and calmed down. "Just a nightmare. Yeah."

"Alfred, are you sure it was just that? You were screaming pretty damned loudly. And you never told me about yourself."

"Hm. That's a good point, I never did, did I?" he sighed and leant backwards, feeling more relaxed. "What? Do you want to hear about it right now?"

"Mm." Arthur grunted from the darkness, obviously settling himself down, "I should be sleeping, but you frightened me so much, I doubt I'd be able to relax enough."

"Sorry." Came the reply, half apologetic, and half amused. "Right. Where do we start? It's long, and it's uncomfortable."

"Are you fine talking?"

There was an awkward pause, before, "Oh, yes, yes. I think so. For the moment."

"Go ahead, then."

-o-

_"Alfred!" The voice floated though the arid air to the young man with eyes so unlike his habitat, "Al!" Turning, Alfred saw Toris, his friend, shooting towards him, having no difficulty with the heavy stones that littered the floor. As he came closer, Alfred saw that Toris' eyes were worried. It was strange; Toris was barely ever troubled._

_"Yo, Tors, what's up?"_

_"Alfred! They've moved! They moved to Southern Merga and are attacking the village with really, really destructive weapons…oh, shit, shit, shit…" he sat down, breathless and put his face in his hands in despair, "My girlfriend and family's there, it's where I live!"_

_"Woah! Calm down, Tors-"_

_"It's my family! We've got to stop them!"_

_"Right." Alfred stood up quickly, deciding that it must be serious if Toris of all people was in this state, "First, tell me this: How destructive are the weapons?"_

_"Light bombs, rifles, I think I saw a bazooka in there somewhere, I've seen aircraft too-come on, let's go!" He began to tug at Alfred's arm._

_"Are you mad? Toris, we can't go there! We'll be killed."_

_"I don't care any more, Alfred." Toris set off at a jog, "I'm going. You don't have to come."_

_Alfred just stood there, dumbfounded. "Toris!" he yelled, making up his mind, "I'm coming with you!"_

_"Hurry up then!"_

_They ran, faster than they had ever run before, Alfred stumbling clumsily over heavy boulders, yanked on the quickening Toris. He never seemed to have had any difficulty before with the rough terrain, a skill Alfred often craved when he was on the dusty flats. It made walking difficult, and so it wasn't a surprise that barely anyone ever came out here._

_"Come on!" Toris' hand was now firmly gripped around Alfred's arm, rubbing raw to the point of crimson the joint._

_"Dude, slow down!"_

_"No, Alfred. This is my family at risk here. You don't know what it's like."_

_"Hm."_

_There, it came into sight, the looming grey town, an immense orange aura highlighting it against the azure sky. The two lowering their gaze, saw great swarms of heavily armed men, clad in black despite the sheer heat of the day. There was a bazooka there._

_"I told you." Toris had lowered his voice to a whisper, evidently scared of the men, "Please, my family's there." He began to try to pull away, eyes beginning to redden with tears, ignoring the firm grip on his elbow now._

_"Toris…" came the voice desolately, "There's no-one left."_

-o-

Alfred sniffed and drew his wrist across his eyes, unable to carry on for the memories choking his throat, "I-I can't go on. Not r-right now."

"Alfred." Arthur bounded across the room quickly to comfort his friend, "It's okay. I'm sorry to have pushed you to talk."

Alfred nodded and smiled slightly, "It's okay. It did help a little." He looked up at the thick-eyebrowed man who was yawning. It was difficult to imagine that this was the teenager who had been so…cold earlier. Maybe it was because he had woken up too early…

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you up-"

"Alfred, it's fine. I daresay this might be doing me good."

"Yeah, but you should go back to bed."

"It's okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

Arthur drew up, rubbing his eyes with the bottom of his palms, "That's…" he yawned, "That's fine. G'night." He made towards the door, before a voice interrupted him. He turned around, looking at the figure laid down on the bed, listening.

"Thank you for everything you've done."

"Hm." Arthur grunted and smiled. Alfred was almost like his little brother when he was like this. "See you tomorrow." He took one last look at the now snoring figure and nodded, carefully shutting the door behind him. He carefully picked his way down the wooden stairs that creaked sometimes and out onto the landing.

He heard a loud-ish rattling.

"Huh?" Arthur halted for a moment and listened carefully. There was silence.

There it was again, only louder, a medium clanging, like metal against metal. He swallowed, hard, feeling the familiar taste of iron shock his tongue. Damn, he had bitten his cheek again.

Not wincing, not even daring to breathe, he swirled the flavour around his gums, swallowing every few seconds, paying attention to every single disturbance to the night. His heart quickened.

A few more minutes passed before he finally dared to take a step towards the stairs down to the hall, bare feet padding lightly against the rustic wooden landing and looked down. A sharp spot of light was trained on the wall at the bottom, shaking, and hushed voices were barely audible. Listening carefully, Arthur couldn't hear any definite words, but it was enough to cause him to begin to climb back up to Alfred's room again in search of a weapon.

The door didn't make a sound as it swung open, throwing precious little light over the peaceful figure. It wasn't so peaceful when Arthur shook it roughly but silently awake.

"Wh-" The question was quickly muffled as the scruffy-headed man clamped his hand over the other's mouth.

Arthur responded in a voice that was so like a spy that Alfred could have sworn that he was in a James Bond film, "There's someone downstairs. I'm here for a rounders bat to get rid of them. I can't just leave them to get in the house." He tiptoed swiftly to the door and retrieved the wanted possession, "Here." He threw one to the now alert young man sitting up attentively, "You can either stay here and defend yourself, which would be preferable, or help me. I would rather you stayed safe."

"No way, I'm helping you!"

"Please, Alfred. We don't know what these people are here for, and you're _my_guest, so it's my duty to keep you safe." He strode to the door once again, bracing himself for the almost definite fight, and probably loss on his part. "Don't follow me down or I _will_kill you."

Alfred's response was somewhat squeaky, "Okay."

"Good."

The journey back downstairs didn't last for half as long as Arthur felt it should have. All too soon, the blond was again confronted with the voices and the spot of illumination on the wall. His heart felt like it might explode from how quickly it was going, and the adrenalin pounded through his body, making him feel sick.

He took a moment to calm himself, before taking the first step down. Vague thoughts ran through his head of how incredibly foolish this was, that he should turn back right now and lock himself and Alfred in the bathroom and call the police or something similar, but in times like this, the logic centre of his brain rarely worked.

As the floor began to move towards him, snippets of the conversation became clear.

_"Isn't this theoretically counted as breaking in?"_

_"Just shut up."_

_"You're being too loud."_

_"He's right, we'll wake them up."_

_"But we've been assigned the job by people above the very law. It's technically illegal, but-"_

_"Hey! What's that?"_

Arthur stopped so suddenly he nearly fell over. Bending his knees to gain some sort of balance, he held his breath, waiting.

_"Those were footsteps. I'm sure of it."_

_"Don't be so paranoid."_

_"I know, there's someone on those stairs who have heard us."_

_"I think it's better safe than sorry."_There was a little rustling and footsteps that sounded heavily booted, _"Even if there is no-one there, it'd be better if we left this for tomorrow."_

_"I'd rather do it-"_

The sound of Arthur falling down the three steps that he had been listening from cut off the voice.

"Oh, bloody buggering hell!" He knew that he'd been found out, so why not release a few words to vent the stress? And he was upside down against the wall.

He scrabbled to right himself and snatched for the bat that had rolled a couple of metres away desperately. He knew that this could easily be a matter of life and death.

"_Hello, who's this?" _The voice was definitely male and slightly patronising. The black-clad figure loomed above him, moonlight flashing dangerously off grinning teeth. Arthur knew that he only had a few seconds-

"Gotcha!" The handle came into contact with the Englishman's palm, and he swung it clumsily at the man. It was dodged easily.

"_We aren't going to hurt you._"

"Bollocks!" He took another swing. This time, the opponent wasn't so nimble, and he was clipped on the elbow, but he quickly recovered, and more people began to emerge from the blackness and shadows of the hallway.

_"Oi! You aren't having a go at him, are you, three?"_

_"Piss off. You're not involved in this."_

_"I was, last time I checked."_

His attacker turned around briefly to stare down his challenger, and Arthur took this opportunity to whack at his knees. The effect was instantaneous. His knees buckled and he sprawled ungainly on the floor, hissing in pain.

_"You little shitbag…"_

_"Hey!" _One of the others in black raced to drag him back, _"We're not here to kill people." _The other looked at Arthur quickly, before letting loose a definite command. _"Get out. All of you."_

There were a few grumbles of protest, before all the intruders dragged their feet out of the door, one grabbing a large bag, odd gauges and scientific instruments sticking out of the top, and slinging it carelessly over his shoulder. He heard rustling, and decided that they were exiting via the window. He knew he should have boarded that up. Well fuck.

_"I'm sorry." _The person who had restrained the vicious man apologised quickly, _"It won't happen again. May I…?" _They gestured to the bat, and Arthur obliged, not wanting to be killed for not obeying. _"He's too much trouble."_He…or she…brought the bat down on the flailing man's head and he was still. _"Ah. Much more peaceful. He was spoiling for a fight, so please excuse." _The shape looked down and began to drag him along the floor. Arthur was too dumbstruck to ask what had just happened, and just waited for them to leave. Then he trudged upstairs and fell asleep, forgetting about Alfred.

* * *

><p>Arthur turned groggily and looked at the alarm clock.<p>

"Oh shit!"

The second thing he saw was a tall man looming over him.

"Late again?" It was Alfred. Arthur sighed.

"Alfred, you scared the living crap out of me."

"You didn't come and tell me it was safe. I've been up since 3am. Three-ay-emm." He obviously thought it would sound clearer if he pronounced it slowly.

"Alfred, I can understand English, thanks."

"You're late. And you left me."

"I BLOODY KNOW I FORGOT!" Arthur finally snapped and screamed, "You also almost gave me a bloody heart attack, so I think we're equals. You've taken three years from me; I took six hours from you. Fair?" He jerked out of bed. "I'm going to be late."

"I packed your bag for you." Alfred said, handing the black rucksack over curtly, "You've been late for two hours now, so I decided to do some work for you."

Arthur stopped, feeling slightly touched and ashamed for his outburst. He took it slowly, and said, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Now get going, boy."

Arthur smirked and looked at him weirdly before leaving, yelling at him to hide in the attic if his parents turned up.

Alfred walked to a desk and sat himself down, thinking. He wanted to make something for Arthur in thanks for how he had treated him and given him a home for the last few days. Deciding that he would make some art (after all, you couldn't have Arthur without "Art"), he snatched a clean piece of paper and a mechanical pencil from the edge of the desk. This project, he decided, should be simple, with little cost and minimal mess, yet effective.

Ideas…he tapped the graphite against the white surface, watching grey marks appear with each casual twitch. He hated it when this happened. Maybe he could do something based on his home? That sounded like a good idea, it was a beautiful enough place.

He began by sketching the planet as he was taught when he was younger. He had never really been terrific at art, but then, he was just acceptable enough to get the basic shapes down. A few flicks of the pencil representing the ground, blocks for buildings, a giant orange halo…he stood up and held it to the light. It was acceptable and would do as a plan.

But, he wandered, what medium should it be in? He knew few methods of art; sculpture, drawing, painting, mosaic. Also, he could teach himself new methods, but that would take too long, possibly. In fact, he thought, why waste a perfectly good drawing on a plan? He sat down again and picked up the pencil, attacking the sheet and expanding on the sparse lines, producing a feasibly good drawing. He smiled at himself and sighed, heading to the kitchen for food.

-o-

"I told you before, Gil, he's just a homeless guy that wandered in off the streets."

Gilbert, obviously not believing his story, sighed. "You told me otherwise yesterday, you told me he fell from the sky. You don't seem to think that the awesome me can detect a blatant lie?" He furrowed his eyebrows, "Artie, I thought we were on reasonably good terms. What is making you lie to me like this?"

"I'm not lying. And don't call me Artie. I was tired, I explained before. So stop having a go at me." He turned back to the French teacher and took notes. Francis scribbled in his book diligently. "Teacher's pet."

"Are you directing that at me?" hissed Gilbert angrily, "Are you insulting me behind my back now?"

"N-no!" came the stuttered reply. The German could get very scary when he was angry, "I was thinking of…oh, never mind."

Ludwig chose this time to speak up, "Francis just likes the subject and he's good at it. And may I mention, Arthur, that you did also pick the option of French?"

"As did you, so why are you speaking to me?"

"You know," He replied, "You've become very nasty so suddenly."

Their conversation was cut short by the teacher, "That's enough." She went back to writing on the board.

The bell rang, and Arthur stood up without a word, sweeping his books into his bag and leaving the room noiselessly and promptly. At the moment, it would be unwise to dig himself into a deeper hole. He spent lunch alone, sitting on the wall reading poetry and overlooking the sea with its blessed waves.

He never noticed footsteps behind him and a head slightly shadowing the book until a quiet voice broke the quiet.

"The Tyger?"

"Hm?" Arthur nearly jumped from his skin, "Oh, yes. A favourite of mine."

"Mind if I…?" The black-haired man motioned to the space next to Arthur, and receiving a nod, sat down. Kiku looked at the poem a bit more.

There was silence for a few moments, before: "I always preferred The Lamb myself. Granted, it is the sister poem, but still. I prefer the idea behind the allegory to The Tyger."

"Ah, you're the first person I've met who also likes The Lamb. Very few people I've ever met have even heard of it."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"I think it's unfair how you treated Ludwig-san today." He paused, but quickly started over Arthur's protests, "And I know that Gilbert-san was being horrible also, but he was probably confused. You have been giving off two different stories and it doesn't seem to make sense." He swiftly drew breath, "And you know how frustrated he can get when he's puzzled."

"Yes." Arthur agreed quietly, "And I was being kind of stupid now I think about it. But last night was so stressful…" he trailed off.

"Is there anything wrong, Arthur-san?"

"No…Well, yes. But can you promise not to tell anyone about it ever?"

"Of course I won't, but you can't have fallen in love with Alfred already, could you?"

"No!" Arthur yelled, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of rose, "I mean, that's absurd! No, last night, a group of people broke into the house-"

"Understandable, seeing as you have windows that are not intact."

"It's not like you to interrupt, Kiku. Anyway, they were all dressed in black, about four or five of them, and they had scientific instruments, as if they were measuring something. Also, they were talking about weird things: something about being ordered by people above the law to break in." By this time, he was very out of breath, and hung his head, sucking in mouthfuls of air.

"That sounds very odd. Could they be referring to the government-?"

"Very possibly. And it's so scary, and I'm afraid I'll get in trouble if I tell anyone. Promise you won't tell, Kiku?"

"I promise, Arthur-san."

"I feel slightly reassured." He sat still, alone in his own head, listening to the waves break over pebbles.

Kiku broke the silence once again, "Maybe you should go and say sorry to your friends?"

"Yes, I think so." Arthur stood up with a groan and offered Kiku his hand, which was taken. He pulled his friend to his feet and they departed for the courtyard, knowing that Gilbert would be there, maybe eating lunch.

-o-

"Hello?" Arthur called at the house door squeaked open, "Alfred? Mum? Dad?"

"Arthur!" His mother came running down the stairs, "I missed you!"

"Yes..." he choked back, struggling to breathe, "Yes mum. I missed you too." he flailed free and saw his father coming to join.

"Hi, Arthur. Have a nice time? How was your A-level?"

"It was fine, thank you. I think I made a few slips, but..." he collected himself, "But anyway, how was your holiday?"

"Ooh, it was great! Honestly, never been so relaxed in my life! Well, I have actually, but it was still relaxing." She started, "Did you say that one of your friends were Italian?"

"Two of them."

"Well they're very lucky to have come from such a pretty and historical place." She grinned, looking tanned, "Shall we have dinner early tonight, to celebrate?"

"Aye, that sounds great." Arthur's father interrupted, "I'm surprisingly peckish. Maybe it was the travelling." He shrugged his shoulders, "Arthur, go and unpack your bag so we can have tea early tonight."

He nodded and set off upstairs with a hasty, "Okay, dad. See you later."

Arthur got upstairs and threw his bag into his room, not caring much for the mess it caused, but headed right for the attic, where Alfred had been instructed to wait. "Alfred-?" he whispered carefully, "Alfred, are you there?"

"Er...er...yes. I'm here." A quick rustling could be heard, and Alfred emerged from behind the bed. "I'm here, and they haven't noticed me!"

"That's good, but what did you put under the bed?"

"Nothing!" Alfred jumped to intercept the blond, "Nothing at all!"

"I don't believe you."

"You have to!" The blue-eyed man's pleas went unheard as the other walked past him and reached under the bed.

"Oh, Alfred..."

* * *

><p>Haha! It's done!<p>

Now: I have had a tonne of stuff on, and school doesn't end for about 5 or 6 weeks yet, so expect updates to be few and far between. Really, don't expect anything soon unless I'm feeling particularly generous or been bored in an I.C.T. lesson XD

Another thing: I made an illustration inspired by Gilbert in the last chapter. There's a link to it at the top of my profile if you're interested (and yes, it has a mature warning because I'm paranoid).

I can't think of anything else at the moment. And thanks again to PeaceGem4 for beta-ing!


	4. Gems in the night sky

It's here ^_^. Note for this chapter: Gerhart=Germania in Hetalia. Michelle=Seychelles

And danke for reviews and watches and stuff ^_^. Very grateful, I am!

**Hetalia does not belong to me, but Hidekaz Himaruya...da-ze!**

Warning for...for...I think there are a few bad words in this? I don't know...

* * *

><p>"Oh, Alfred…" Arthur's words seemed disappointed, but not truly. "Alfred, I…" He picked up the painting gingerly, holding it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. The words 'For Arthur, for being so nice to me' were written in the bottom left-hand corner in ink over watercolour paint.<p>

"Alfred, I don't know how you did this, but you must be incredibly talented."

"Huh? No! I'm really not that good, I-hngph!" He was cut off by a punch to the stomach that winded him completely. He keeled over onto his back and looked up. "What the hell was that for?"

Arthur stood, towering menacingly above him, "Don't you _dare_ say that you're not talented, because you really, really are, and you're just insulting everyone else by claiming that you're not. So please don't say it again."

Alfred could only lie there, gaping as if he'd been slapped with a wet fish. He opened his mouth a few times before he could form a few words.

"Is this how you proclaim 'talent' here?"

"Yes. Now get up. I need to introduce you to my parents before they find you or suspect something." He took the unsuspecting blond by the wrist roughly and dragged him down the stairs, two at a time. It was around the halfway mark that Alfred lost his footing and tumbled right onto Arthur's back, throwing them both all the way down. Arthur landed painfully on his face, Alfred on the other's back, hooting with laughter.

"Dude, that was awesome!"

"Hnnng…" came the reply, a mere groan. The spiky-haired young man lay there, trying to recover, and just managing "You git."

"Come on, get up. I want to see your family." Alfred jumped up quickly and peeled Arthur off the floor. His face was bruised and mashed. Alfred thought for a moment, before offering the only suggestion he could. "You can sort of…smooth your face out later with a few warm flannels."

"Bloody twat."

"Good for you! Now let's get going."

"Oh, how you abuse me so." Arthur planted his feet in the floor and began to attempt to walk without falling over and making a fool of himself. They trudged together down the stairs and into the dining room where Arthur's parents were sat.

"Ah. Hello again Arthur. And who's this?" Arthur's father sat up from the table and frowned.

Sweating, Arthur came up with the best answer he could think of. "He's new here. He's also my friend."

"You make friends so quickly like this? I thought inviting someone over was usually reserved for best friends?"

"Dad! I'm trying to make him feel welcome!" He rolled his eyes, flashing emerald.

"Ah. So sorry." He turned to Alfred, "Hello, I'm Arthur's father, but you can call me Gerhart if you want." He held out his hand to the blond. Long hair, braided around the back shifted while he stood. He seemed to be wearing a kind of traditional green robe.

"Pleasure." Replied Alfred and shook it.

"And I'm Michelle." The woman sat next to Gerhart stood up and shook his hand as well. She wore her black hair in two pigtails that almost reached her waist. "I'm Arthur's step-mother."

Alfred smiled "Nice to meet you." he said.

"Actually, I still have some fish left over in the pan. Would you like some, Alfred?"

"Yes please!" He confirmed eagerly, following her into the kitchen to get it. It was swordfish, and it smelt delicious. He watched as Michelle slapped some of it into the plate and handed it to him, along with a gleaming knife and fork.

"We very rarely eat it, and it'd be a shame to put it to waste. It's endangered now, so we can't have it very often at all." She sighed, "But, that is life I guess. C'est la vie. So many disappointments.

"You're very right there." Alfred put in, and followed her back into the dining room. He spotted Arthur, ready, sat by his plate, splashed with the dim light thrown by the obviously worn light-bulb. Sitting down to eat, he noticed Arthur. He was smiling...but something wasn't quite right, as if he was forcing the smile. Quickly plucking up the courage, Alfred asked "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am, you git!"

"Arthur! Language!" Interrupted Michelle.

"I'm sorry."

There was an awkward silence. Arthur's parents tucked in, while Alfred just looked at his new friend. Quiet and polite munching quivered in the air, while the atmosphere grew tenser. Trying to distract himself, Alfred looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. The table was quite old and worn, as he had seen the night before, but now there were more people around it, it seemed...somewhat smaller. It was barely covered by a linen table cloth, adorned with pansies and geraniums. The curtains bared the flowers as well, but they were a deep scarlet colour. There were real flowers as well. Lillies in a vase on top of an oak bureau, the smell so powerful that he almost sneezed. Really, it wasn't like any of the other rooms. It was a little more...quaint. Maybe older.

Gerhart looked up. "Alfred, so, are you new here?"

"Yes, I am." Alfred gave his best shot at a genuine smile.

"You're very lucky. Arthur rarely invites anyone over. _Even friends that he's been with for years._" He sent a highly concentrated look at the thickly-eyebrowed boy. "We're glad that he might be finally opening up, socially, if you get my gist."

"Oh, certainly."

This was painful. This was very, very painful. Alfred could practically feel waves of embarrassment radiating from Arthur, and even Alfred himself was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It hurt him to be so polite, when it was so _blatantly _obvious that Arthur would have given anything just to melt into the ground.

"So, _Arthur..._" Gerhart pushed his face up against his son's, "How long has he been here for?"

"Oh, not long." came the squeaked reply, and a cough, "Only a few days. But-" His voice broke, and cleared his throat briefly, "we knew each other over the internet before."

"_Really? _Seems like such a coincidence, doesn't it?"

"Yes, how funny, haha." Arthur looked down, and then back up again. "Oh! Would you look at the time? I'd better go and study." He jumped away from the table as if it was white hot, or held poisonous spiders, slamming the napkin down, "Come on, Alfred. You'd better come too."

"Oka-" There wasn't even enough time for a word before Arthur had grabbed his arm and was pulling him out of the room, very forcefully. Up the stairs, along the squeaky landing, up the next set of stairs, and into Alfred's temporary room. Arthur flung the other boy down onto the bed quickly, but continued marching into the darkened corner, where the small shape curled up and shook.

Alfred shifted himself up onto his shoulders and opened his mouth. "Arthur?"

There was no reply, but a soft sobbing.

"Artie, what's wrong?"

"Don't...don't call me that, you git."

"I'm sorry." He waited for a minute, listening to the silence, occasionally broken by sniffs and sobs. Finally, he heaved himself up and trod the carpet to his friend's side. There he sat, and put his arm around him. Arthur almost jumped away, but slowly relaxed and settled. He rubbed his thumb up and down Arthur's arm, comforting him somewhat.

They sat there together, watching the sky slowly grow dark, until Alfred broke the silence with the inevitable question.

"What's wrong? You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it. Just know that I'm here and you can talk if it helps."

Arthur was silent for a few minutes.

Alfred broke the silence again. "You don't think I'm annoying, do you?"

"No, not at all." Was the reply.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No...please don't." Arthur gripped Alfred's jacket, "I don't want to be alone."

"You're not alone, my friend."

"I'm not alone...I'm not alone..." Arthur sighed, almost contented, "Alfred, you're my friend."

"Of course I am!"

"Then will you stay with me forever? Whatever I do, you'll stay. Whatever I tell you, you will not go?"

"No. I won't leave."

"Then can I tell you what is wrong? I know I've only known you since...yesterday...but I feel like I've known you a lifetime."

Alfred nodded, listening to Arthur taking a few deep breaths.

"Alfred...No. I'm sorry. I can't do it." Fresh tears spilt over his cheeks, "I'm not familiar enough...damn...why am I such a coward?" He sobbed freely, pulling Alfred in, "I can't stand up to anyone...I'm not close to anyone...I feel distanced."

"That's okay. You don't have to tell me."

There was no reply. Slowly, Arthur quietened down, rocked by his friend.

Arthur sniffled, and looked up, "You still haven't told me more about you..."

"Hm. So I haven't." Alfred agreed, "What, do you want to hear about it?"

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"...I think it would do me good to get it off my chest."

"Go ahead then."

* * *

><p><em>"No! No! No!" Toris breathed quietly to himself, tears spilling over his cheeks slowly, "It can't be…"<em>

_"Toris-" Said Alfred sadly, beginning to pull gently at his arm, "Toris, we have to go."_

_It was true. The army had left the village, leaving scarlet flames to engulf the little houses, bodies strewn out across the path heading to the north. Animals had either been slaughtered where they stood or were being used to help the soldiers in their conquest. Nothing remained, and the group of men that had taken the community were re-banding back into their fearsome swarm, cheering and stamping in victory, screaming war cries._

_"Toris, come now!"_

_"I-I can't…" Toris was transfixed by the terrifying chaos writhing like a dying fish in front of his eyes. "That's where I grew up, Al. It's where I belong, and they've taken it from me." The words sounded almost glossed like the brown eyes of their speaker._

_"Toris!" Alfred yanked the hazel-haired man by the arms and looked him square in the face, "They haven't taken the village until they've taken you. The spirit of the whole community lives in you. We have to get away, now! We WILL fight them, Tors, I promise you. I promise you, that you will get revenge in one way or another." Alfred began to pull backwards, leading Toris, "But until then, we have to get going and warn other villages."_

_For a moment, Alfred thought that his friend was going to ignore his pleas, but almost to his surprise, Toris nodded and joined the blond now galloping across the plains and rocks._

_Several hours later, the pair had warned almost every village in Southern Merga about the terror that might surely kill anyone who got in their way. Most of the people had heeded the warning and fled to the mountains in the North-East, but a few paid no attention._

_Like the Lindberg family. They had been eating their evening meal when Toris and Alfred burst in, yelling about the army moving towards them._

_"What is this?" Asked a middle-aged man, rising out of his seat and slamming his knife into the table with unnecessary force._

_"They're coming! They're going to kill everyone!"_

_A woman stood up as well now. "Who are, dear?"_

_"The army!" Said Toris, tears welling up again, "They took my village, and they're going to take yours as well!"_

_"Don't be so stupid, boy! No-one's coming to kill us! We're staying here." He sat down and dismissed them._

_Toris almost attacked the insufferable man in his anger that felt like it might eat him up, but Alfred put his hand on the other's shoulder and shook his head sadly. Five people. Three children and their parents. Doomed._

_They couldn't stop. They continued warning everyone they could find, and sent a few willing helpers out to continue carrying the message. Evening turned into night, flaming sky dulling to a deep Prussian blue._

_"You know what? We should make a resistance army." Alfred said, panting as he turned to Toris._

_"You think so?"_

_"Yes! Absolutely! But, I think we need to start by following everyone to the mountains. When we get there, we'll set up a resistance group."_

_"But," Toris said, "Don't we have to warn more people?"_

_"Didn't we send around a hundred people to go and warn other villages?" Alfred said, raising his eyebrows._

_"Yes. Yes we did. Good point. Let's go."_

* * *

><p>"I have to stop there." Said Alfred, "It's too late, and my head hurts."<p>

The voice said otherwise, as it cracked.

"That's fine. What time is it?"

"It is...time you got a watch."

Arthur's expression was priceless. "I do have a watch. It is just on my wrist right now, and I cannot see my wrist because you are laying on it. Please remove your back, and then I shall be able to tell the time."

"Dude, how did you keep a straight face while saying that? That was hilarious!"

"Just move yourself."

Alfred shifted so Arthur was able to remove his arm and look at the watch. As all the blood rushed back, the numbness slowly left, and he got pins and needles.

"It's about 11. And I'll be lucky if my arm hasn't dropped off by the morning. Well, never mind. Never mind." He rolled his eyes, reflecting moonlight.

"It's late." Alfred stretched and yawned, "I think we should go to bed."

"..."

"Awkward. Oh well, goodnight." He stood up stretched again, making his back click grotesquely.

"That's disgusting, Alfred. Oh, well. G'night." Arthur also stood up and made to leave the room. A noise made him look back.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget about me. Ever. Okay?"

"Of course." Arthur smiled contentedly. "But you must, in return, promise never to forget about me."

"I won't. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He closed the door softly behind him and crept down the steps, trying his hardest not to make a noise. Sighing, he walked towards his room, tiptoeing carefully along the squeaky landing and into bed, pulling back the covers on the way, brushing back strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes. He was glad it was so late. No-one bothered him at that time. He slipped slowly into a peaceful sleep, thinking about Alfred's story.

_What if that had happened to you, Arthur?_

No. That was stupid. He sat up and turned on the light. It was often night when rogue thoughts reached him, that would have sounded ridiculous during the day. It couldn't possibly have happened to him. Could it?

It didn't, he decided, and that was good. What use was it thinking about it anyway?

He turned the light off, rolled over, and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Arthur?" The whispering broke through the silence of the night. Again.<p>

"Hm?"

"Arthur? Are you awake?" A bright light shine directly into his eyes. Shying away from the overpowering brilliance, and squinting, he frowned.

"Well, I'm awake now." He rubbed his eyes, "Why do you have to do that?"

"I couldn't sleep." Alfred whispered back, "And I want to show you something."

"Urgh, why now?"

"Because I think you'd be interested, and it won't reappear for months after this. Come on!" He yanked at the Englishman's arm, who was already cursing under his breath. Sighing and releasing profanities, Arthur heaved his body out of bed and followed the man downstairs.

"Where are we going?"

Alfred completely ignored the question, but asked one of his own. "Arthur, do you have a telescope?"

"What?" Arthur questioned, "Why? And you didn't answer my question."

Alfred sighed, as if he was dealing with a particularly stubborn three year-old, but answered nonetheless. "Because I want to show you something very special. Now, do you have a telescope?"

"Yes." He yawned back, "It's in the shed. So I presume that that's where we're going?"

"Yeah." Alfred continued to lead the blond haired man down the stairs, across the cream carpet, and out into the garden.

Arthur looked up, seeming almost drunk. "Alfred, we've forgotten our shoes."

"It doesn't matter. Now come on!" He sped up and marched smartly across the wet grass lapping at their toes, watching the shed emerge from the darkness, silvery moonlight hitting the dark panels of the roof, making patterns like spider's webs.

Beads of dew sprinkled the grass and splayed when stepped on, like the feet of the two people striding across the lawn.

"Alfred, what is the meaning of this?" Asked Arthur suddenly, shattering the silence with his sobered voice, "Come on, I'm cold."

"Just wait!" Alfred said, swinging the door open with the push of a hand and revealing an array of old, rusted, useless rubbing. "It is in here, right? You're sure?"

"Positive." Arthur replied.

"Excellent."

Alfred was in and amidst all of it in a flash. He pushed old cobwebs from the air with flicks of his hand, moved old rubbish quickly but effectively, stacking them all on top of each other, albeit precariously.

"Alfred, watch out! I don't want you dead under a pile of rubbish in the middle of the night."

"It's not going to fall." He said, continuing to wade through.

A box fell on his foot.

Hopping around, Arthur laughed. "Famous last words, eh?"

"You'll be sorry, my friend. One day!" He smirked past a grimace, and continued to walk. Minutes later, a happy yell confirmed that Alfred had found the telescope. "I've got it!"

A strand of blonde hair came bobbing back towards him, and Arthur stood out of the way so Alfred could get it outside. There, he stopped to watch him set it up with difficulty. More than once it collapsed, and Arthur doubled over with laughter, but eventually, it was fairly stable.

"Done!"

"Stop shouting!" Arthur whispered back, "You're making such a terrible ruckus, it wouldn't be surprising if the neighbourhood woke up. Then we'd be in trouble."

"Sorry, _sir_." The man with the glasses said back, before turning to look through the telescope and searched the sky.

Watching him from behind, Arthur felt more peaceful than he had ever before. He felt like he had a close friend, and he wanted nothing more than to shower him with the love he deserved for being so nice to him. The moon came out from behind a cloud and splashed silver light across sodden blades of grass, and onto the pyjamas of the blond fiddling with the telescope.

_Say something, damnit!_

"Stop faffing about. Get the telescope in the damn place already!"

"You sound like Lovino."

"Aye, that I do. Now, is it ready?"

Alfred cocked his head and nodded. "Yes. Come and have a look." He beckoned to Arthur.

Obeying, he trotted over and put his eye to the hole. "Now, can you see Ursa Minor?"

"Yes..."

"Now, just go upwards until you're level with the bottom star of Perseus..."

The telescope travelled upwards as Arthur followed his directions. "Yes?"

"Can you see an orange-ish glow?"

"Yep."

"Well, that's my Solar system. It's called Delta Arietis. I live on Acamar, the fifth planet out. Or I used to live." He grimaced and rolled his eyes. "It won't be present tense any more, will it?"

Arthur paused for a moment, but still muttered "No, I think not. Hey! If you move the telescope a bit to the left, you can see it more clearly!"

"Hm?" Alfred questioned, grabbing it off him and turning it. "Oh, so it does. Well spotted."

"Is there anything else?"

"Oh! Yes!" Alred replied, his attention piqued, "There's Furud, over there-" He guided the telescope over to the left, "That's visible all year around...there's Maia, Mira and Sirius, all contained in the Epsilon Draconis peninsula...Sargas, Pollux, Diadem, Ayla..." His voice trailed off as the telescope roved, moving to what looked like a shadow, where there were so few stars, it almost looked like a black hole.

"And that's Altiris. They started causing trouble long ago."

* * *

><p>*Insert terrible cliff-hanger here*<p>

I'm sorry that this chapter wasn't very exciting, but it was quite important, so I couldn't really miss it out.


	5. Chekhov's Gun

Okay ^_^. My apologies for the wait. Special thanks to PeaceGem for checking it over :D

**Hetalia does not belong to me; it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, de-su-yo!**

Probably more swearing because Romano is beginning to inhabit my brain.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, "When you said that they were causing trouble? What did they do?"<p>

Alfred's expression didn't change, but remained fixed forwards, mouth stuck in a grimace. "Well...it's a long story..."

"Why do you do that every time you're going to tell tales of your old life?"

"I don't know. I never noticed it before. Anyway, do you want to know or not?"

"Yes!" Arthur nodded, "I want to know!"

"Fine." Alfred sat down on the wet grass, joined shortly by Arthur. "I'll tell."

And he did.

* * *

><p><em>Alfred and Toris arrived in the mountains very out of breath, but somewhat satisfied that they had warned enough people or sent enough onwards to continue the job. Joining all of the other refugees, they flopped down, very out of breath and laughed. They had warned everyone, and while some refused to leave, most joined them into the mountains.<em>

_"Dude, we did brilliantly!" Alfred grinned, looking at Toris, who returned the gaze happily._

_"I think so too. I feel strangely fulfilled. But," He looked away and grimaced, "I still can't stop thinking about my family. I miss them so much."_

_"I know, I know." Alfred returned, pulling Toris into a bone-crushing hug, trying to be comforting, "But as I said, your village isn't gone while you're alive. Now," He said, standing up, "I think that we should speak to these people. They don't know what's happening."_

_"A-are you sure?"_

_"Yeah. Now stand up!" He held out his hand, as if as a command, which was taken by the brunette, and they stood up together, beginning to address the crowd. There were a lot more people than Toris had expected. He felt a bit clammy and weak at the knees, but still he stayed standing._

_Next to him, Alfred, feeling no fear at all, cleared his throat noisily. The general chatter died down, and the collective attention was shifted directly to him and Toris._

_"Now, do we all know why we're here?" He began, voice raised. A few people nodded, but there were mostly murmurs in the crowd. "Well, the Alturisian army from the Alpha Aquilae corridor have recently arrived on Acamar and they've begun with southern Merga in their 'conquest', and we all know how they are with that."_

_There were a few titters here and there, but most people turned completely white. The Alturisian army were famous throughout the universe for their highly strategic and effective methods of conquering whole planets - either leaving them in complete tatters, enslaved for more colonies, or even destroyed. Acamar's army was fairly developed, but nowhere near the level of Altiris'._

_"What are we going to do about it, then?" Someone yelled, "We've heard about what happened to other planets...and if they fell, then what chance do we have?"_

_Toris saw Alfred gulp and look down. This was very, very bad._

_"Ah...I think that evacuating everyone is an excellent start."_

_"But what happens now?" A blonde young woman stood up, yelling. "We haven't got food! We haven't got water! We haven't even got adequate shelter, for god's sake!"_

_That did it. Panic reigned, people also stood up and began yelling. Babies and young children cried in panic, elder people pushed and screamed at the pair at the front. Toris shrank away in fright._

_"Come on, Toris." Alfred said, putting a hand on his arm and helping him back to his side, straight and tall. "You're a warrior now, friend. You can't run from a group of people."_

_Toris considered. No, he couldn't. Standing up straight again, he tried to attract the attention of the crowd again, unsuccessfully._

_Alfred sighed, before letting loose a fearsome roar, "SHUT UP! Listen to me!" There was silence again. Fights halted halfway through punches. "We can't even begin to consider beating the Alturisians if we can't even work together, for goodness' sake! Hell, if we continue like this, then we may as well just go outside and slit our own necks for them! Fighting causes trouble, and that's what they rely on. If we can begin to work together, forget our differences, then we have a pretty damned good chance. Now, do you want to save our planet?" There was a huge roar from the people again. "That. Is. Better. Are we going to make a resistance group?" Another shout._

_"Alfred, are you absolutely sure?"_

_"Dude, I was born to do this. Don't doubt the hero!" He turned back, "Right! I need a few people with me now, please!"_

_There was no response whatsoever from the crowd. "Come on!" Toris yelled as well, "He needs people to help! Do you want to save your planet?"_

_Still no response. Minutes passed. Nobody moved or spoke._

_"...Come on." Alfred said sadly, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, and turned away._

_"W-wait!" The pair snapped back and looked around for the speaker. It took a few seconds, but a dark-haired young man rose slowly. "I'll come."_

_"What? Are you serious?" This prompted a nod. "Well, come up, then!"_

_He almost bowed, but caught himself and trotted merrily up to the front to join Alfred and Toris. He wore a beige shirt and black belt, and his shocking green eyes shone with excitement and happiness._

_"Name?"_

_"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, sir." He nodded and grinned some more, producing a tomato from his pocket and biting into it._

_"Anyone else?"_

_"Hrkk?" Another man hiccuped and raised his head. He had obviously been sleeping. "I'll...er...come too." He offered and got up slowly and stiffly. He also had brown hair and green eyes, but they didn't glitter as much as Antonio's. In fact, they were half-lidded and enormously tired._

_"Are you sure? You looked like you were asleep."_

_"I was, but I picked up on every single bit of information. I'm Heracles Karpusi." He nodded and joined Antonio's side, refusing the tomato offered to him._

_"We'll come too!" Two women with silver hair stood up and ran to the front as well, dragging a pouting blond man and a small boy that shook crazily along with them._

_"Katyusha, Natalia, Feliks and Raivis." They offered as they approached Alfred and Toris._

_"And me! Don't forget me!" A small boy dashed up with Raivis. "Raivis here can't go without me!"_

_"I-I can't?"_

_"Nope! I'm Peter! Peter Kirkland!"_

_Toris faultered, "Are you sure that we can take small boys with us?"_

_"Well...I'm not sure. I personally think the more the merrier, but he is only young."_

_Peter looked horrified and upset. "Please, sir. Please let me come!"_

_"O-okay. But keep yourself out of trouble."_

_Peter nodded. "I promise!" But he had his fingers crossed behind his back._

_After they had all finished introducing themselves, Alfred turned to the people again. "That's it?" He questioned once more. This time, no-one stood forwards, so Alfred continued to speak. "All right. Thank you. We need all the help that we can get, and this is a nice little group of freedom fighters. We need you all to continue hiding here while we do our work, to save the citizens of our dear planet." He began to walk away, leading the small group behind him, deep into the mountains._

_Toris was left, quaking a bit. Gathering up some courage, he began to talk again to the silent group. "Er...you might need to elect someone to take charge...get food, that sort of thing...Bye." He sprinted off in the opposite direction, leaving many, many people silent and confused._

* * *

><p>"Look what you've bloody done! I'm all damned wet!" Arthur said, standing up and brushing himself off, "I need to get inside."<p>

"Yes, I think so too." Alfred agreed. It wasn't comfortable in the slightest. He accepted the hand held out to him and hoisted himself to Arthur's level again, looking at him.

"You go inside. I'll put the telescope away."

"You're sure? I can help..."

"No." Arthur swiftly and bluntly refused, shaking his head, "I'll be fine, and I like it out here."

"Well...okay. Just don't get too cold." Alfred said, turning back to the house slowly, and stepping inside the door.

Arthur sighed contentedly. It was peaceful out here, very peaceful and tranquil. He could hear everything, he was alert. He shifted his footing and listened to the grass squidge beneath his feet like a bog. He looked up and saw stars glitter in the sky like...well...glitter. Across velvet. Yes, that was the sky. They looked like eyes. Alfred's eyes. Kind, and annoying, and caring, and-

"Stop digressing." He said to himself, "It's bad enough that you're still out here."

Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.

Either way, he had to get the telescope back into the shed. He glanced at the wooden hut and bent down, snapping the legs shut, packing it all into itself. This took a shorter amount of time than he had anticipated, so he trailed to the shed and plonked the equipment inside, disturbing a few spiders. It was now that his friends chose to visit.

"Arthur!" One yelled gruffly from behind him, making him jump "Man, we've been looking for you for ages!"

"It's too late for this." Arthur replied, snapping around and looking at the trio in front of him, a hint of anger gracing his impressive eyebrows, "You should know better."

"But Arthur...you've known us for years! You should know by now our normal visiting times."

"I've known you long enough to know that you visit at the absolute worst times." He shot back furiously, "And I presume you're not going to leave me alone until tomorrow now?"

"Whoever said that?"

"You, effectively, looking back on how many times it's happened now. Go shoo now." He flicked his hands at them, "I don't need this."

"Aww, Arthur, you're such a spoilsport!"

Upstairs, Alfred was looking out the window at noises. It sounded like people speaking...or arguing. Shifting his gaze, he looked back down onto Arthur's spiky hair. He seemed to be talking to someone...but he couldn't see who. He couldn't see anyone at all. Arthur was talking to himself. And gesturing at thin air.

"What the...?" It was too late to question. Arthur was heading back inside, and a great wave of tiredness overtook him. He fell asleep as soon as he flopped onto the bed.

* * *

><p>There was no need to wake up so early that day because it was a Saturday. Arthur slept well past eleven o' clock, and it was only the light now shining onto his face and the burning sensation it created on his eyes and cheeks that properly woke him up. He opened his eyes against it and found that he was sprawled sideways across the bed, sheets hopelessly tangled.<p>

"Oh, bloody hell..." He propped himself up on his elbows and wriggled out of the strangulating web, grabbing some clothes.

Downstairs, Alfred was eating toast covered in strawberry jam. It was sweet, and he had woken up about three-quarters of an hour before. Hearing thumping above him, he yelled upstairs, asking if Arthur was alright.

"I'm fine-argh!" A particularly loud bang and a smattering of what sounded like books and a stream of choice expletives. It was quite impressive really, Alfred thought, turning back to his breakfast, that one could have such a varied vocabulary of insults, yet so few words to replace them with. He shrugged. It was the way of the earth, the one that he had learnt from his past few days here.

A second later, Arthur stamped noisily down the stairs huffing and strongly resenting his clumsiness, griping for tea and biscuits. Alfred smirked into his own coffee. The wonderful range of vibrant and exciting things the blond could talk about on a morning made him both laugh and coo inwardly. More sharp noises indicated that Arthur had found Alfred's...kind...contributions to the family's cupboards.

"What the bloody fuck is this?" Arthur said, marching into the dining room and holding up a bottle of instant coffee, "And why, pray tell, has it replaced the tea?"

"Hahaha! My friend-" He stood up and put his arm around the Englishman, who obviously struggled, "I thought you should begin to appreciate the heaven on earth that is called coffee, but is in reality pure gold."

"What on earth are you talking about?" He replied, pushing the taller man off his shoulder, "And what have you done with my parents?"

"I'm talking about this coffee. You need to try it. And your parents are out buying stuff. From a supermarket, I think." He nodded, pleased with himself.

"Probably because you just replaced all of our food with coffee. Or something like that. But anyway, you had _better bloody drink all of this. _And then pay us back."

"But first, try some, please?" Alfred gave him the puppy eyes. Damn, they were adorable, who could say no to those...?

"No, I-urgh..." He faltered, "Bloody fine. I'll try it. But I'm not agreeing to drinking it all for you."

The steaming mug was thrust into his hands as soon as he said "fine" and Alfred was sat in front of him grinning like a maniac. "Drink it." He pushed.

"Bloody hell, don't rush me!"

"You make it sound like you're an old man. Drink it now!"

Arthur stopped, and nodded, raising the mug to his lips and taking a sip. Alfred continued to stare relentlessly at him as if he was some _fascinating _object of interest at a damned museum! The world seemed to stand still and Arthur lowered the glass, thinking of what to say. Alfred waited silently for the verdict.

...

"Bloody hell, it's terrible!" He made a face and looked at him, "I mean, I'm not that fond of it."

Alfred's face fell drastically. "Dude, how can you not like it? It's pure, molten gold!"

"I think you've sadly mistaken the coffee for the tea. I'm not sure how that's possible, but you obviously have." He stood up, "I'm off to make some scones. If you want, you can join me, but maybe it'd be better if you didn't."

"Sure." Alfred agreed, expression not changing, hands raised. He lowered his voice slightly to continue; "I mean...your friends have had to save you from house fires caused by your cooking before, haven't they?"

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing! I'll just...go." He jumped up and left the house quickly, leaving Arthur standing in complete silence.

* * *

><p>The day passed without much occurrence. Arthur managed to not burn the kitchen down, Alfred returned with an assortment of odd shirts and weird footwear and Arthur's parents came home happy. Arthur hid in his room when everyone returned, being slightly antisocial.<p>

However, the day's ordinary-ness was shattered with a ringing of the doorbell.

Michelle went to answer it, more or less prepared for anyone who would want to call around at tea-time. Nothing could have prepared her for the four figures standing on the doorstep, wearing large hats and scarves that trailed round their faces, hiding all but their eyes.

"Hello..." She said, pausing to take in the bizarre people, "And what brings you here?"

"Hello, miss," One of them began, "We're here to ask some questions...do you mind if we step in?"

"Oh, no." She answered, oblivious, "Come in. In fact, we're having dinner right now, do you want to eat with us?"

This was completely and utterly unexpected. How many people would just _let _strangers walk in and have tea with them? It was unheard of! Until then. The four were completely taken aback at such a random act of kindness...and a gaping window of opportunity. But, they thought, wouldn't it be a bit stupid just to walk into someone's house of an instant invitation? Had information been leaked? Could this house really be home to axe-wielding maniacs or just murderers? This could attract attention, and the smallest of the four turned away, only to be forcefully herded back by a strong hand. The owner of the hand smiled pleasantly and accepted graciously..

"That'd be wonderful miss, but...are you sure? We don't want to interrupt anything."

"Oh, no! It's fine! Trust me! Just come in!" She ushered them all in quickly. The doorframe posed a challenge when they all tried to get through it at once, but eventually, they all filed into the dining room and sat where told to, around the smallish table. It was already a squash, and would no doubt become more of one when the rest of the house came and sat down. A yell came from the other room indicating that they would soon be joined.

"Arthur! Gerhart! Alfred! It's dinner time!"

The call was quickly heeded by Arthur, who slowly dragged himself upstairs to Alfred, took him by the arm, and led him downstairs like he had the day before. He nodded at his mother, didn't look at his father, and traipsed into the dining room, only to be confronted by four strange men, clad heavily in black. They looked at the pair of blonds, and they looked back, paling slightly. Then they bustled out of the room quickly, pushing Michelle back into the other room. Shutting the door, they rounded on her.

"Who are they?" Arthur pushed as soon as they were in silence.

"Who are who? And why did you push me back into here?"

Arthur sighed, "Those men in the other room. Please tell me, it's urgent." Indeed it was. He felt that he recognised...something...about them, and it wasn't a good feeling.

"They're men who want to ask questions."

"Oh, bloody hell," He turned away and smacked his face into his palms in frustration, "What, you just _invited _them in on a whim?"

"Don't talk to me like that, young man," She retorted to his attitude, "It's polite. There are certain things that we're all expected to do."

"_What?" _His voice spiralled, "Inviting random groups of men in off the street is something we're all expected to do? I think it's just stupid!"

"Stop there. Now you get in there and don't you dare make a fuss or there will be serious consequences." She pushed past him, opening the door and entering the other room angrily. Alfred backed into the corner, unwilling to get involved in a heated family argument. He had caused enough trouble turning up.

Minutes later, Arthur's breathing calmed and he looked up. "I guess we should go and sit down." He pondered, more to himself than to Alfred.

-o-

"So, what brings you here?" Michelle asked pleasantly to the four over a bowl of mussels in red wine, "You said you wanted to ask questions, didn't you?"

One of them looked up and swallowed, "Ah, yes. We're scientists from the police force, and..." He paused, "Hang on. Er, well..." That was stupid. The whole thing was supposed to stay secret. Three other legs struck him at various points on his shin and his eyes watered with pain. Recovering, he regained his composure, "Yes. Well, before we say anything, this must stay a secret. We just need to know what is happening. In short, our instruments detected unidentified disturbances at midnight on Wednesday outside your house. We were wandering if you saw or heard anything."

Arthur and Alfred turned completely white. Michelle looked at them both, "You were both here then, weren't you?"

Arthur had to lie, and fast. He had been concocting many lies recently, and he feared that at some point that they might contradict each other, he had to be cautious. First thing, he thought, was to get Alfred out of the whole thing. He could complicate things so much.

"I was the only one in the house on Wednesday, and I didn't see anything." He shrugged.

"Then when did Alfred come in?" Gerhart said pushily.

"Thursday after school. We thought we should celebrate finishing our maths with a few days around."

"Right..." The man said, "Well, has anyone been feeling odd recently? Have any electrical devices gone funny?"

"No." Arthur said, giggling nervously, "Are you sure your instruments were functioning properly?"

"Yes, we're sure." He confirmed. "Because they went crazy when we walked past your drive this afternoon."

"Er, potatoes?" Alfred offered, trying to loosen the tension. He stood up and passed the colander over. Loud beeps were emitted from the black bag down on the floor.

There was silence. Everyone looked silently at Alfred with wide eyes. Arthur was screaming with frustration and fury inside, he had just completely given the game away. He thought of the one last method of getting rid of them at his disposal.

"Ha! We've all finished, have we not? I made something earlier that I think everybody'll like." He left the room, and a small clatter alerted everyone that he had picked up a dish. He walked back through to the room and placed it down on the table.

The plate was covered in scones.

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><p>I'll save you for what comes next ^_^ It's too graphic. Sorry for the wait, I was away, and I would have had this posted earlier if I hadn't been gone XD<br>Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	6. Bargaining

*Feels that this space will feel empty without something that wastes time and space*

Again, thanks to PeaceGem4!

**Hetalia does not belong to me, eh? One thing, though...Crosby _does _belong to me.**

Violence and...well I'm assuming that if you've got this far then you're not going to be too offended XD anyway, violence and maybe swearing. And a character of my own will make a cameo appearance because I ran out of characters I have experience writing :/

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><p>"Well," Said Arthur, returning from the bathroom and plopping down on his bed once again , "It was worth it. They'll no doubt come after us again after that..." He paused and looked at Alfred (whose bed had been moved from the attic to Arthur's bedroom for the time being). "Frankly stupid move, but I think we might have time to throw them off completely, however that might be done. This has given us an advantage, I might say. We're young, we can get better more quickly than they can, and that gives us one hell of a head start." He stopped speaking and looked over at Alfred in the dimmed light, who looked pale and was perspiring furiously, chewing his thumb nail worriedly.<p>

"I don't know." He responded after a while, "This sickness is really bringing me down emotionally. What if something happens? I don't think I could live with myself if you got in trouble for me." He looked down at the scarlet sheets and played around with a frayed edge nervously like a cat would play with a ball of string. "You've..." He sighed and shook his head, deciding to come out with it, "You've come to mean so much to me ever since you brought me in. I lost sight of how precious life and friendship were, and you brought it all back to me. And I want to thank you for that. It would be horrible beyond anything for me if you were in danger because of me."

Arthur was silent, absorbing this information slowly. Choosing his words carefully, he responded, saying "That is what I put myself in for, carrying you in that night. If I didn't want anything, possibly dangerous, to threaten me then I wouldn't have acted as I did. Saying that, I mean that I was prepared anyway. If you understand." He looked over at Alfred, who was now so agitated that the sheet was actually coming apart in his fingers. "That reminds me of that time..."

"You're not going to break into the story of your old life again, are you?"

Alfred looked at Arthur, cocking his head. "Yes, actually, I was."

"You are SO predictable."

* * *

><p><em>"Where are we going?" Peter asked Alfred and Toris, trotting to keep up with them, "It looks like we're going <em>back _to them."_

_"We are." Explained Alfred, lowering his voice, "We have no chance of fighting them ourselves, but we can observe them for a while and see if there's something we can do."_

_"Sounds like a fool's errand, to me." Put in Antonio._

_"Just...trust him," said Toris. "The guy is sure-" He glanced at Alfred, and re-worded it carefully, "The guy is quite sure that he knows what he's doing."_

_"Of course I know what I'm doing!" Alfred scoffed, hearing the conversation, "Trust me, I wouldn't be taking you all out here if I didn't." His glasses glinted in the sun and he smirked. "A hero wouldn't put his friends in trouble under any circumstances!"_

_"Right..." Antonio replied again, scepticism dripping from his tone._

_"You can believe me," Alfred assured again, before melting into silence, watching the scenery as he walked. Everyone else did the same, not speaking a word._

_Lush grass lead into dry desert once again, rocks dotted here and there, seeming to aim to trip one of the group up every few minutes. The sun glared hotly over the sand, and there were several shadows cast, moving around the people as the day went on. It was when the first shades of pink and orange began to streak the sky that Katyusha spoke up and asked if Alfred did know what he was doing. Natalia looked away, seemingly lost and slightly angry due to the long dress and slightly heeled shoes that were rather unconventional for walking in the desert._

_"I know what I'm doing, I already said!"_

_A large dune was up ahead. They scrambled up it clumsily, using the odd sod of grass growing here and there as handholds, and they peeked over the top. Peter, having caught a glimpse first, yanked everyone back behind the shelter (although a little too forcefully) and Heracles tumbled backwards, down the dune before climbing up again. His brown hair barely tickled the sand as he stared at Peter, along with everyone else._

_"They're over there. They look like they're resting or something. All their armour's gone, the horses are tied up."_

_"So what do we do now?"_

_Everyone looked at Alfred once again. He smiled nervously, his eyebrows twitching a bit, and looked over his shoulder. Nothing happened for a short while, except a vague, steady thumping in the sand below them, until a group of what could have been thousands of people coming over the top of the sand dunes. They weren't organised, not by a long shot, but they were there, and they were headed by a young man with silver dreadlocks. All of them grinned as they saw the group as they marched over the sand and the silver dreadlocked man began to jog to meet up with them._

_"Nathaniel Crosby." He stated, shaking Alfred's hand, "I gathered a few more people fer ya. Though' ya migh' need it, eh?" He laughed. Alfred scowled._

_"I appreciate your help, Nathaniel-"_

_"Call me Nat."_

_"Fine then, _Nat._" He spat, "No offense, but I thought I had gathered all the willing in the group."_

_Nathaniel looked behind him at everyone, shifting about, "Yeah, but then I...I sorta said a bit too loudly tha' I wan'ed to go too, after all. An' then a load'a people came up ta me an' said tha' they wan'ed ta come too. Turns ou' tha' they were jes' scared, y'see." A few men nodded, obviously embarrassed._

_Alfred's blue eyes widened. "Well...I feel kind of insignificant now. That's why I'm angry."_

_"Oh-"_

_"BUT," he stressed, "That doesn't mean I don't want any of you here. Speaking of which, we just found them over there-"_

_Nobody seemed to be listening any more. Also, the light seemed to have changed. Alfred looked up._

_"Hello, poppet."_

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><p>Alfred looked up again at Arthur slowly and grinned. "It'll be alright. A hero wouldn't put his friends in trouble under any circumstances!"<p>

"Where the bloody hell did this 'hero' nonsense come from?" Arthur asked, laughing slightly and coughing. He lay back and closed his eyes, feeling himself drift off to sleep slowly when Alfred failed to reply, only to be jolted awake by his father, bustling a little too noisily into the room. Arthur opened his eye a crack, just in time to see Gerhart bang the soup bowls on the bedside tables and shoot a glance that looked like a mix between hatred and terror at Alfred, who recoiled in fright. Arthur was too tired to challenge his father, so he just sank back into the sheets, unaware of what was going on downstairs.

-o-

"You must understand- " Said Michelle hurriedly, "We have him here now! You could come for him as soon as you're better!"

"No." Was the choked reply, "I'm never going near your house again."

"We-well..." Michelle stuttered in return, "We could...we could bring him to you. Is that fine?"

Their conversation was interrupted for a moment while Gerhart walked into the room and shut the door behind him, smiling. "Any updates on the situation?" He asked, his lips curling at the edges, flashing pristine white teeth, "Are they coming here?"

"No." His wife explained, shaking her head, "We're going to bring him to them."

"What?" Gerhart mouthed back, furrowing his brow, but staying silent for the sake of the conversation.

"Hang on!" The person on the other end of the receiver said to Michelle quickly, "We don't just want 'Alfred', as you call him."

Michelle stopped, and then laughed for a moment, "What do you mean you don't 'just want 'Alfred''? You want money? I thought it was _you _paying _us_."

"No." Was the reply, "We want your son too. Bring them both." A click, and then silence. Michelle just looked at her husband, not saying anything, quiet permeating their very bones.

"Well?" The blond asked, after a few minutes, "What _do _they want?"

The atmosphere was so tense you could have cut it with a knife. Michelle looked at him slowly, watched his eyebrows furrow and concentrated on that spot, breathing heavily. The tap of his foot brought her brown eyes to meet his, deep, cold. It was looking into those eyes that she revealed what was requested of them.

"They WHAT?" He said, eyes glinting dangerously, "They want our SON?"

"Yes." She breathed, simply sitting down heavily on the chair, "I don't know...why."

"I knew it..." He stated, more to himself than his wife, "I knew that boy shouldn't have been in our house. Arthur shouldn't have gotten involved in him in the first place. And he lied!" He spat like venom, "He lied to us multiple times! Can we trust him any more?"

"I don't know!" Michelle moaned back, cheeks becoming tear-stained, "I don't know who to trust, Gerhart. I don't know how many times we've been lied to...I don't know what has happened in this house over the last few days...I just don't want anything any more. And we CAN'T give them Arthur, not under any circumstances." She stopped, panting, a small river still cascading over her sun-kissed cheeks and dripping off her nose. Her husband sat down beside her, putting one arm around her shoulder, and the other wiping her face.

"Remember when we used to sit like this down by the beach in the Seychelles when we first met?"

"Yes. It was quite nice." She said, looking out at the rain pouring down on the grey grass outside, "Now we're stuck with this."

They both giggled giddily and watched a robin hop across the garden towards a small, muddy puddle, where it drank deeply, shook itself off and flew away again. Gerhart chose this time to stand up.

"Well." He said, putting on a completely expressionless face and trying to eradicate his mind of human emotion, "I guess I should go and look after them."

Michelle's eyes widened in fright, "You're going to take our son as well?"

"I don't know. I think I'll just go and take Alfred to them, speak to them, and if they say there's no alternative..." He bit his lip, trying to return to his previous, expressionless state. "I'm going anyway."

He took one last look at his wife, before nodding silently and leaving the room.

-o-

Alfred jumped awake. He had been half asleep when the noise jerked him back to consciousness, and he sighed angrily. He wasn't feeling well as it was without being interrupted when he was about to fall asleep again. He told the person who had knocked that he could come in, and he did. It was Gerhart.

"Hello." He whispered, carefully opening the door and tiptoeing into the room quietly. Spotting Arthur turned away from the door and slowly breathing, he said "Is Arthur asleep?"

"Yeah." Alfred replied, also keeping his voice lowered, "He fell asleep about an hour ago."

"Ah." Gerhart looked away, feeling incredibly bad for what he was about to do, "Never mind, then."

"'Never mind'? Never mind what?"

"I was going to take both him and you to the doctors. Food poisoning induced by his cooking has never lasted this long." He grimaced and looked downwards, "Usually, it's only a few hours, but it's been over a day. I know what!" Gerhart looked up again and smiled, "I think I should just take you, and assume that's the rule for this time, treat Arthur as you and all that, eh?"

"Hmm..." Alfred's every instinct told him that something was wrong, but his brain just _couldn't _pinpoint it exactly...Gerhart was holding himself too stiffly, his posture was forced and there was something in his eyes. But his mouth had a mind of it's own. "Sure. Of course I'll come."

"Good, good." Gerhart seemed to relax a little, but his spine was still rigid, "Well, I'll leave you to get dressed, and we'll leave. Remember not to wake Arthur up." He nodded slowly, looked around, and exited through the door.

Alfred got dressed, and as he was told, stayed for the most part silent, except when he fell over. Arthur raised his head a little and mumbled something groggily about Alfred and fell back asleep again. Bless.

To be honest, Alfred still really wasn't feeling well enough to go out but he felt that he should anyway, so when Gerhart met him at the door, he left with him. It was raining and the sky was grey so the pair each donned coats and left. The air smelt of sea-salt and it was only now that Alfred actually felt the need to get away urgently. He stopped walking. Gerhart didn't notice, so he carried on for a distance bfore stopping as well and looking back.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I..." He desperately tried to think of an excuse, "I'm not feeling well. Honestly, I'll be fine."

"No, you need to come with me. It's just the illness messing around with your brain, trust me."

His face didn't look very trustworthy.

"No, really-" Alfred tried to back off, "I think I should get back inside."

The taller blond's entire aura seemed to change drastically at that point, and there was a moment when pure terror overtook Alfred and stayed in waves.

"No." Gerhart said firmly, "You're coming with me." He marched smartly over and took Alfred by the arm, pulling him to the car, opening to door and pushing him in and getting in himself and locking the door. "You're coming with me." He repeated again, his voice beginning to shake a little as he pulled out of the driveway, Alfred hammering against the door in the back with his feet and arms until they bruised. It was several miles down the motorway when the thumping stopped and silence was restored in the car. Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

The landscape changed from countryside to city again, the traffic thickened and it began to rain traced the path of the drops of water with his finger and sighed, almost certain that he would never see Arthur again.

"You don't know why I'm doing this, do you?" Gerhart muttered suddenly.

Alfred faltered, unwilling to talk, but his curiosity overtook his grudge (understatement of the century) and he made a questioning noise at the back of his throat.

"It's because we, the whole family, have been long in trouble with money. We owe another group a massive sum of money, and they threatened us all. They threatened to kill us all and those who are related to us. Debt's a powerful thing, Alfred. I was stupid long ago and it's come back to me. I had everything I could ever need because of some foolish..." he stumbled, "_gamble_." He spat the word out like it was poison, "And you're my only way out of this. They're closely affiliated with this group and they promise to erase my debt if they can have you..." He stopped shortly.

"Yes?"

"...and Arthur."

"No." The world seemed to come crashing down on Alfred, "Not Arthur. I promised I wouldn't let him get in trouble for me!"

"And this is why I'm doing this. I'm going to talk to them, try and explain the situation...Ah." He pulled in to the side of the road, "I can't do this." He leant over the steering wheel, "I can't turn you in for us."

Alfred was completely stuck for what to say. On one hand, he could easily allow Gerhart to take him home, and in doing so, allow the whole family to get into trouble. He would get away scot-free. On the other hand, he could take Gerhart by surprise and insist that he take him to those people and demand they tell him what they wanted him and his friend for.

It didn't really take long to decide. He was a hero.

"...I think you should take me to them, but I ask one thing of you." Gerhart looked up in surprise, maybe...relief lacing the stress lines on his forehead. When he nodded, Alfred continued. "I want you to defend me until and while I speak to them. I'm going to try and find out what they want with me and my friend."

"You're sure? Are you definitely sure you want me to turn you in to them?"

"Yes."

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><p>Okay, all told ^_^. I've noticed that I'm drifting and being lazy with my writing...how many weeks since I last updated? Anyway, I'll try and get the next chapter up within the next 2 weeks. But school HAS just started, and it's the beginning of two important years, so I'm getting a lot of homework...I'll try my hardest anyway! :D<p>

**Also, **one rather important thing...Reviews help me write immensely. I wrote this chapter looking at the reviews to this story, and it kind of feels like not many reading my story...I write to please everyone! My main goal is to entertain! Anyway, TL;DR, reviews are love! Spread the love!


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